I was among many legislators who stood by protesters, but others weren't arrested. Georgia's Democratic Party, state must do better.

ATLANTA — After last week's State of the Union address, I sat in a local union hall watching Stacey Abrams offer a call to action for our democracy — the kind that Georgia and our country desperately need.

"This is the next battle for our democracy," she said, "one where all eligible citizens can have their say about the vision we want for our country. We must reject the cynicism that says allowing every eligible vote to be cast and counted is a 'power grab.' "

She also spoke about how fair-minded judges are needed to defend civil liberties and the state's ability to negotiate criminal justice reform.

As I listened — not just as a citizen of Georgia but also as a black female senator in the state's legislature — I couldn't help but remember last year’s demonstrations to make “every vote (in Georgia) count.” I also remembered the moment when police attempted to silence me in the state Capitol and the poor treatment of not just people of color but specifically black women at the hands of law enforcement. It's a topic that gets comparatively little coverage. Black men are more frequently put forward as the victims of police brutality (even though it was three black women who started the Black Lives Matter movement).

Last month, I became the head of my state's Democratic Party. My mistreatment at the hands of law enforcement is no longer about me, but about what my party can do to better protect women of color.

State Sen. Nikema Williams (D-Atlanta) is arrested by capitol police. Dozens of demonstrators had filled the rotunda of the Capitol building in Atlanta on Nov. 13, 2018, to protest election ballot counts.(Photo: John Bazemore/AP)

Locked up without a voice

Black people are disproportionately targeted and impacted by our criminal justice system. For black women, the reality is stark. In 2014, black women were twice as likely to be imprisoned as white women. That number rises to four times more likely for younger women.

Sandra Bland's case comes to mind when most people think about black females being mistreated by police.

In 2015, Bland was found dead in a Texas jail cell after she was pulled over by a police officer during a traffic stop and arrested. State trooper Brian Encinia was eventually indicted for lying to the grand jury about the stop. Yet in 2017, the charges against Encinia were dropped in exchange for the surrender of his Texas law enforcement license.

No one was ever held criminally liable for Bland’s death. Her family settled a wrongful death lawsuit for $1.9 million, but no amount of money will ever bring her back.

The gross injustice in Bland's case (and in so many other cases like hers highlighted by the #sayhername movement) was far worse than in mine. I live to tell my story. But the arrests are rooted in the same racial profiling and violence that black women across the country experience daily.

I was unlawfully arrested at the Georgia Capitol — my workplace — during a rally against voter suppression almost a week after last year's election.

The Senate had just adjourned for Day 1 of the special session. Upon hearing the sound of glass breaking and someone yelling, "They just threw a young kid to the ground, and they’re arresting people," I along with other legislators walked down into the rotunda. We saw a larger than normal police presence, as well as constituents we recognized in the crowd.

I heard an officer say, "I could make an announcement right now to disperse, and I could arrest everyone in here." Shortly after, he demanded that everyone clear out of the rotunda. As an elected official, I knew that I had to stand with the constituents who were peacefully protesting. I didn’t leave the rotunda.

Within minutes, the police zip-tied my hands behind my back, despite my legal right to be in the Georgia Capitol. My colleague, Rep. David Dreyer, a white man who was standing near me, was not arrested.

Georgia law states that legislators "shall be free from arrest during sessions of the General Assembly" except for cases of treason, felony or breach of the peace. The thought of getting arrested never crossed my mind. During a peaceful protest, no one should have been arrested.

Instead, I was one of 15 people taken into custody, and the only one who was slapped with two criminal charges: one for disrupting the General Assembly (that I am a part of) and another for obstruction.

Addressing the needs of black women

I am the first black female chair of Georgia's Democratic Party, and hearing Abrams speak of criminal justice reform in her State of the Union response was empowering.

The Sentencing Project submitted a report to the United Nations on racial disparities in the U.S. criminal justice system. It states that blacks are six times as likely to be incarcerated as whites.

From the enforcement of mandatory minimums to longer sentencing, the criminal justice system is rife with racism. As recently as 2012, women and girls of color were among the fastest growing populations in U.S. prisons. Black women also experience a disproportionate rate of police brutality: Nearly a quarter of women killed by police in 2015 were black, despite the fact that black women are only 13 percent of the female population in America.

Black women work hard for our economy and democracy. As some of the most consistent Democratic voters, and in many cases breadwinners of their families, black women deserve more than a carceral state and lack of representation. Our lives do not exist in a vacuum, and addressing one issue on its own, whether criminal justice or economic security, will not bring about the unity and equality we are striving for across the state of Georgia.

I know that my party has a long way to go. We must work with others to ensure an environment where all Georgians feel like they are a part of the democratic process, and like they have the right to be heard.

Incarcerated women in state prisons also have rights that are being ignored. They have the right to give birth without being shackled. Georgia is one of six states that hasn't banned the practice.